


So Good

by slippery_soak



Series: So Good [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Consensual Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Frottage, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Omorashi, Watersports, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 01:22:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18378053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slippery_soak/pseuds/slippery_soak
Summary: Tony wets himself on Bruce’s lap.That’s it. That’s the entire fic.You’ve been warned.





	So Good

Tony likes to give up control. Bruce likes to take it. The arrangement is a simple one, based on wants and needs. Neither of them have a desire to look too deeply into the matter because it’s a sure bet that if they did, they wouldn’t like what they saw. The way things are now, though, is easy and uncomplicated, born of one too many nights working late in the lab, in very close quarters, drinking entirely too much coffee (on Tony’s part), and dealing with very frustrating science (on Bruce’s part).

That they’d eventually discover a little bit too much about each other was always inevitable. 

Still. 

How they went from late-night science bro’s to _this_ is something of a mystery. Neither of them can complain, though, because _this_ is fucking amazing. 

Tony whimpers, mouthing at Bruce’s shoulder, beginning to pant heavily. He’s cradled in Bruce’s lap, a leg on each side of Bruce’s thighs. Bruce’s capable hands are stroking up and down Tony’s back, underneath his t-shirt, holding Tony tightly against his chest. 

Tony whimpers a second time and squeezes his legs against Bruce’s. “Brucie-baby, I can’t. I can’t...anymore. Please.” 

“Shhhh. I got ya, Tony.” Bruce whispers against Tony’s temple. His voice is calm, and soothing, and everything Tony needs right now. “You can hold it a little longer, sweetheart.” 

Empirically, scientifically, Tony knows in his mind that he probably can hold it a little longer, but his body is telling him something entirely different. His body is telling him that his bladder is full to bursting, and he really, really has to pee right goddamn now. He moans and scrambles to get closer to Bruce, and Bruce tightens his hold around Tony, still shushing him softly into submission. 

“You’re so good for me, Tony. Aren’t you? So good.” He presses a chaste kiss to Tony’s check and resumes patting his back gently. “You’re so good, and it’s going to feel so good when you let go. But not yet. You’ve got to hold it for a just a little while longer, ok?” 

“I want to be good,” Tony replies, voice strained from the effort he’s exuding trying to clamp down on his muscles. He doesn’t want to go yet. He wants to hold out until Bruce tells him it’s okay. He wants to be good. But he knows he isn’t, isnt always good. As much as he tries. 

His body is hit with another wave of desperation, and he knows he’s only a few seconds away from leaking into his jeans. He’s not wearing any underwear. He rarely does. It’s just an unnecessary layer that does nothing but slow him down. But right now he kind of wishes he was wearing some, because maybe it would help hold it in. Maybe it would keep him a little more together. 

But he’s not, and it isn’t, and his bladder is like a leaden ballon pressing against his denim waistband and his dick is twitching uselessly against the rough fabric, beginning to drip and dampen the inside. He tries to rut against Bruce’s stomach without even realizing it. 

“Bruce, please, I gotta go so bad.” He hears the whine in his voice and he does not care one bit. 

“How bad, honey? Tell me how bad it is.” 

“It’s...it’s...” Tony whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut, face buried in the side of Bruce’s neck. His bladder spasms and he feels the first real spurt into his pants. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck he’s losing control. He can’t. Not yet. 

He manages to stop the flow by yanking a hand off Bruce’s shoulder and shoving it between their bodies so he can grip his dick through his jeans. The move buys him a brief reprieve, even if he knows Bruce disapproves. 

“Tony.” Bruce’s voice is deep and commanding in a way it usually isn’t in normal conversation, and if Tony didn’t have to piss so badly, the sound of it would surely have his cock springing to attention. Bruce’s breath is hot against his skin, his fingers gentle around his middle. “Tell me, Tony. Tell me how bad it is and maybe I’ll let you go.” 

Tony shudders at the thought. “It’s so bad Bruce. I can’t hold it much longer. I’m really, really going to piss here.” 

“Yeah? You gonna wet your pants for me, sweetheart?” 

And fuck if that doesn’t sound so amazing right now. Tony moans and massages his dick through the stiff fabric. “Yeah, I think I am.” 

“You know I want to hear you say it.” 

Tony swallows and chokes out, “I’m gonna wet my pants” just as another spurt of piss leaks into his pants. “Oh, piss, fuck. It’s coming out. I can’t...I can’t...” He rocks back and forth in Bruce’s lap, trying to clench his muscles but he’s not very successful and a third spurt, longer and more foreceful than the first two wets his jeans enough that he can feel it against the hand still clutching his dick. This is it. “Baby, shit, baby I’m gonna wet my pants. I’m gonna wet my pants.” 

Bruce reaches between them to gently tug Tony’s hand away from his crotch. He pulls back a bit in the chair so their foreheads are resting together and their lips are nearly brushing each other. “You’ve been so good for me, honey. So good. It’s ok for you to let go now. You don’t have to hold it anymore.” 

Tony sucks in a deep breath and tries to relax with Bruce’s words. Bruce is pressing little kisses all along his jaw, while one of hands is stroking across Tony’s front, grazing over his nipples, moving lower and lower, down across his abdomen, and coming finally to rest against his groin, cupping the wet fabric there, and giving Tony a gentle squeeze. “Let me feel you wet yourself, sweetheart.” 

And that’s it. That’s all it takes. Tony gives up the ghost and relaxes against Bruce’s body, his bladder releasing full force. The urine comes pouring out of his dick, flooding his jeans, soaking his balls. It’s hot and wet and feels fucking wonderful. He doesn’t try to slow it down. His body has gone completely limp with the relief of letting go. “I’m pissing, Brucie-bear,” he whispers sounding completely fucked. “Oh fuck it feels so nice, baby. I’m actually pissing.” 

Bruce groans in response. Tony feels his hands moving between them, hears the snap of Bruce’s jeans and the tug of a zipper, and when he pulls back just a fraction to look between them, he sees Bruce’s cock jutting out of his boxers, thick and hard and dripping. Then the next thing Tony knows, his jeans have been undone too, and a rush of cold air hits his still-pissing dick before Bruce wraps his fingers around him and points the stream at his own cock. 

And holy fuck. Tony Stark first wet his pants like a toddler, and is now peeing on his boyfriend’s hot, hard cock. Bruce is moaning and rutting against Tony’s hip while Tony continues to pee, their laps getting completely soaked with his piss. 

“Tony. Fuck. So good. So good.” Bruce is rambling, babbling as Tony’s stream finally begins to slow down. Tony reaches down and takes Bruce’s cock in his hand and starts jacking him off, his hand sliding easily over the wet hot velvet of his skin. Now that he’s stopped peeing, he’s getting hard himself, and he presses closer to Bruce, bringing their dicks together, rubbing them in his hot wet piss, pooled around them. 

Bruce reaches down to help, and between the two of them it only takes a couple more pulls before Bruce is coming, and coming hard, spraying all over their hands and Tony’s shirt. The image of him, back arched, head thrown back, eyes shut tight, is so fucking hot, it doesn’t take Tony long to follow. He comes with a toe-curling orgasm, shudders against Bruce before slumping exhausted and drained in his lap. 

Bruce’s hands are roaming all over Tony’s body now, heedless of the mess they’ve made. Stroking him, caressing him, pulling him close. Tony sighs and melts into the touches. His voice is hoarse, wrecked, when he tries to speak. 

“Did I do good, Bruce?” Tony asks meekly. 

Bruce squeezes him tight. “Yeah, sweetheart, you did good. You were so good for me. So, so good.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fan fiction. In no way, shape, or form do I hold the rights to these characters. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Yes, we’re all going to hell in a handbasket, perverts.


End file.
